Chances OneShot
by Virginia Sinistra Black
Summary: A little one-shot about Theodore Nott and Neville Longbottom. It's boyxboy so if you don't like that, don't read this. Simple as. :


**A/N: I'll confess, I'm ashamed that when I first saw this ship on my massive list, I had no idea who Theodore Nott was. Quick search on Harry Potter wiki, and an image starts to form. Two boys, devastated by loss of parent(s), just looking for comfort, and that's when I formed this. Please give it a chance. And if you like it, review! If you don't like it, review anyway and tell me what a crap author I am, crushing my dreams in the process! **

Chances

I'm not a bad person. My dad was. He was a Death Eater, before they chucked him in Azkaban. I can't go the same way as him.

I live with my aunt now. Betty Nott. She's my dad's sister, and she's almost as bad as him. Not a Death Eater herself, but a sympathizer, certainly. Every day this summer I got lectured about how great it is that my father was fighting to rid us of the muggle-born scum. And then I come to Hogwarts and guys like Malfoy think they can control me. Because I'm too weak to do anything about it.

I'm not weak.

I'm scared, though. Even an idiot can see that there's a war coming. And it's time to pick sides. Everyone expects me to become a Death Eater, to join Voldemort and crush the Muggle-borns. I'd rather keep out of it, but I can still remember the last words my dad said to me before the Ministry caught up with him.

"Theodore Nott, you have a duty, to keep the bloodline of the Wizarding World pure and clean. Mudbloods are not real Wizards, and if I've raised you right, you'll join The Dark Lord when you come of age next year."

It's too confusing. I do want to make my father proud of me, and I believe that Voldemort will win the war...But I want to be a good person. I would never feel right killing innocent people, I'm not sadistic or eager to please like Malfoy. Malfoy. Bullying me into being part of his little gang, making me wish I wasn't at Hogwarts with him and his cronies. But I have to go along with it- what other options do I have?

I'm a Slytherin and everyone thinks we're evil anyway, what's the harm in living up to that reputation? Everyone hates us...me. I see the way Potter and his 'perfect' friends look at me. Us Slytherins will never escape persecution from other houses- all those goody-two-shoes Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

Sometimes I just have to get away from it all. An abandoned classroom on the second floor, a place of solitude to think and wish and wonder.

It was there that I met Neville Longbottom. It was embarrassing the first time he saw me in there. It was surprising we'd never seen each other before, as it was both of our favourite place to go when we were feeling down. But we met one of the times when it had all gotten too much for me and I was crying.

He didn't say anything. He sat on a desk, took a picture out of his pocket and waited for me to calm down.

I managed to stop the flow of tears fairly quickly. As I sat there sniffing, that was the first time he spoke to me.

"What's up?"

I thought for a moment. In Slytherin, Neville was a joke. I could have brushed him off, left. For some reason, I didn't. Something earnest, loyal, in his face.

So I replied: "Malfoy. He's just so insensitive sometimes. Talking about my...mum."

"You saw your mum die," it's a statement, not a question, "I remember. You could see the thestrals last year."

I was surprised that he remembered.

"Yes," I said, "I saw her die. And I suppose you heard about my dad."

He nodded.

"Potter gave his name in," I continued, "Not that I blame him. In fact, I'd like to thank him! I hate my dad." It's not true. Deep down, I know I love my dad; I just can't stand him- and the choices he's made- right now, "I reckon he would have gotten caught anyway. But You-Know-Who's going to break them all out soon, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"

We sat in silence for a while, then, contemplating Voldemort's imminent rise to power.

"Why are _you _here?" I asked him.

He took the picture out of his pocket again and showed it to me. It was a couple- a thin brunette and a balding, jovial young man. I knew instinctively that they were Neville's parents, and I had heard what had happened to them. Tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange, a woman my father has often called gifted and brilliant. I'd felt a surge of pity for Neville, and it had seemed natural to offer him a friendly hug.

Since then, we've become good friends. Best friends, even, although I don't have any others to compare him to. We meet almost every day in our classroom, and talk about our day, week...offering advice and sympathy to each other.

He gets bullied by my fellow Slytherins a lot, and even the Gryffindors often don't think he's good enough. He's never high in the class, always down at the bottom, and he's terrified of professor Snape. He's insecure, but I think there's a lot more to him than is on the surface. He's definitely brave enough to be a Gryffindor, as I tell him often enough.

I tell him about Malfoy, who keeps pressuring me to join his gang of idiots, and bow down to him. How the other Slytherins bully me for refusing to conform to the mudblood hate persona. I tell him about how the only subject I'm any good at is Potions, and I'll probably fail the rest of my NEWTS.

No one else knows. Me, because I have no one to tell. Neville, because I'm a Slytherin, and it'd make him even more unpopular than he already is. I don't mind. I understand, and I almost wish that I wasn't a Slytherin, that I was a Gryffindor so that I could be friends with whoever I pleased, without fear of consequence.

I'm waiting for him in the classroom, that Thursday afternoon. I've got parchment for my charms essay, so I start on that while I wait.

After about five minutes of scratching my head with my quill, trying to work out the correct wand movement for 'agumenti', Neville bursts through the door, looking flustered.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see us both, in his office, now," he pants.

I follow him up to the headmaster's study, where he says 'chocolate frogs' as the password. Once inside the office, Dumbledore looks at us with a grave expression on his face. I gulp, not knowing why we're here, and wondering if I've done anything wrong.

"Mr Nott, you are most likely wondering why you are here," says Dumbledore, echoing my thoughts exactly, "I have given Mr Longbottom here a task, and he suggested that you helped him."

I turn to Neville, who looks almost guilty.

"Professor Dumbledore wants me to help the Order by finding out about Death Eaters, and I was thinking- because your dad is a Death Eater..." Neville says quietly.

I think about it. It's strange, as I think, I realise I wouldn't do it for anyone but Neville. There's no one else I care that much about- to betray my family and friends like that.

I'd do it for him.

"Sure," I address Dumbledore, "What do you want me to do?"

Dumbledore smiles. "It's mainly that I want you to cast your memory back, to any 'friends' your father may have had, who might have visited. Neville will be the one who'll try to round them up with the Aurors"

"There was Rosier, I suppose. He went up to dad's study and I heard them talking about...Wormtail or someone, about five months ago. Oh, and Mulciber, that sadistic guy who spat at me and called me scrawny when he came with-with...Dolohov, that was it! Lucius Malfoy's come round a few times, too- but he's in Azkaban already, isn't he? I'm sorry, that's all I really know...And what's Neville going to do? Is he going to get hurt?"

"No, no," assures Dumbledore, "He'll just be working quite closely with the Auror office to try and catch the remaining Death Eaters...I would ask Harry, but the boy's got so much on his mind...Which reminds me Neville, would you mind not telling Mr Potter?"

"Um...OK, Sir," Neville seems taken aback by the strange request, "How often do you want me to visit the Ministry?"

"Professor McGonagall will take you for side-along apparition once a week. Speaking of which, you should probably get going now- report our findings to Scrimgeour...Or Kingsley."

"Goodbye then, Professor," Neville says, towing me out of the office with him.

Once outside, the first question comes bursting out.

"What the HELL?"

"I think Dumbledore wants to give me a chance with the war. It's always Harry, Ron and Hermione who do all the work, but I think Dumbledore wants to give the others a chance too. He's been speaking to Ginny and Luna, too. And however small my job is, I'm willing to do it."

Before I can think about the consequences of my actions, I throw my arms around him and kiss him. After all those weeks of trying to keep our friendship a secret, I realise I'm snogging him in the middle of a crowded corridor, and for some reason I don't even care. Not even slightly. I feel his arms wrap around me, and I feel the titters and sounds of disgust around us. But in this blissful oblivion, if doesn't matter to me. All I know is that Neville is the best person I could ever hope to know, and despite the fact that we've only known each other a few weeks, I already care about him more than anyone else in the world.

And that's enough to keep me strong. To keep me good. I'm NOT a bad person. Not when I'm with Neville.


End file.
